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That was a direct hit, straight to Kiva’s heart. It took her a moment to fight the tears that wanted to pour from her eyes, and she only managed because Caldon moved closer, offering his silent support.Give him time, he’d said. But Kiva was beginning to fear that all the time in the world wouldn’t help mend her relationship with Jaren.

Healing Naari was a good place to start, though.

Determined to make at leastone thingright between them, Kiva reached through the shadows to lay her hands over the guard’s chest. She refused to think about how temperamental her magic had been of late, and instead closed her eyes and focused on the power in her blood, coaxing it to the surface. Without a discernible injury or sickness, Kiva concentrated on the death magic itself, willing her golden light to appear and destroy its hold on Naari. Last time she’d only managed to break Zuleeka’s power by recalling her grandmother’s words:Be the light in the dark.

She repeated those same words to herself now.

Be the light in the dark.

I am the light in the dark.

But even without opening her eyes, Kiva knew nothing was happening, and her shoulders began to slump as fear and sadness took hold.

This was Naari — Kivaneededto save her, to heal her. It should have been instinctive, her magic flowing on command, and yet, not even a hint of light appeared, no matter how hard she tried to summon it forth.

“You can do this,” Caldon encouraged quietly from her side, sensing her flailing spirit.

But he was wrong.

Kiva withdrew her hands and didn’t look at anyone — not Caldon, not Naari, especially not Jaren — as she said, “I’m sorry.” The words broke. “There’s something wrong with my magic. I don’t know what it is, but I can’t — I can’t heal her.”

She wasn’t surprised when the next thing she heard was Jaren’s angry footsteps moving away from them. She’d failed him. She’d failed Naari. She’d failed —

“Hey, stop that,” Caldon said, grabbing her hands and opening her palms to keep her nails from tearing her flesh. “You’re just tired. We can try again tomorrow.”

Tomorrow wasn’t going to change anything, but Kiva didn’t say as much, certain that if she opened her mouth, she’d only start sobbing again.

“Let’s get you to bed,” Caldon said gently, wrapping his arm around her and guiding her away from Naari.

Kiva didn’t look back as they walked away, knowing it was cowardly and hating herself for it. In an emotion-clogged, painful-sounding voice, she asked, “Can you take me to Tipp?”

Caldon tensed at her side, even as he continued leading her from the infirmary back out into the night. “The moradine tonic —”

“I won’t disturb him,” Kiva said, aware that the sleeping draft Tipp had taken would keep him unconscious until morning. “I just want to be near him. I want to be there when he wakes.”

Caldon hesitated for another moment. “I don’t think this is your best idea.”

Despite his warning, he turned and led her in a different direction, until they eventually came to a large utilitarian building shaped like an L.

“Most of the soldiers sleep in shared dormitories,” Caldon said, pointing to the longer side of the L, “but guards with higher rankings have private quarters. Jaren and I were given two rooms in this blockwhen we arrived, and we found another for Tipp earlier tonight. He’s in here.”

Even knowing Tipp would be asleep, Kiva’s pulse sped up as Caldon opened the door to the building. Together they traversed a quiet hallway full of more doors leading to individual rooms, until he brought her to a stop in front of one of them.

Kiva’s breath hitched when she stepped inside the darkened room and caught sight of Tipp sleeping on a bed in the corner. His mouth was open, and he was snoring lightly, his freckled face at peace. The last time she’d seen him, he’d had tears in his eyes after learning the truth about who she was, and then Zuleeka had knocked him unconscious. Kiva knew she had a lot to answer for, but just being near him again and knowing he was safe eased something within her.

“There’s only one bed,” Caldon said quietly. “I’ll go find you a —”

“I’ll sleep on the floor,” Kiva said, already moving to Tipp’s side and sliding down to the ground.

“You’ll wake up sore all over,” Caldon argued.

“I’ve slept in worse places,” Kiva said, the shower block at Zalindov coming to mind, along with the Abyss. “I’ll be fine.” Unable to resist, she brushed a tendril of red hair off Tipp’s forehead.

Caldon sighed loudly, then moved toward Kiva and lowered himself beside her.

She looked at him in confusion. “What are you doing?”

“If I end up with a cricked neck, you’re giving me a massage tomorrow,” he said, leaning his head against Tipp’s mattress, his long legs stretched out in front of him. He closed his eyes and said, “Go to sleep, Kiva.”